Orpheus
by Bard Kayna
Summary: Inspired by the Greek myth. Established Van/Stef. FLUFF WARNING DEPRESSING WARNING Please R&R! Oneshot.


**Author's Note: This was inspired by the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. I was reading it and suddenly it smacked me in the face with a board—Orpheus=Stefen, Eurydice=Vanyel. (Yes, he's a girl. Proof at last of what Baellee has suspected all along.) Anyway, I was struck by the urge to write this. The first few lines are quoted from **_**Magic's Price**_**. All this belongs to Mercedes Lackey. It's unashamedly sappy. And fluffy. And… I actually rather like it. **

"_Vanyel!"_

_Terrible pain—then, nothing. A void where warmth should be._

Stefen leapt from the cot, screaming Van's name—the Healer tried to hold him down, but he fought clear of the man, throwing the blankets aside in a frenzy of fear and grief.

_I felt him die—oh, gods. No, no, I can't have, it's just something else, some magic—he's still alive, he has to be—_

He ran, out of the barracks, out into the snow, shoving people out of the way. He stumbled blindly to the stables and grabbed the first horse he saw that didn't shy away, saddling it with tack that seemed oddly familiar—

The filly snorted in his hair as he reached up to bridle her—and he recognized her. It was Melody—

But that didn't matter; all that mattered was the ache in his heart, in his soul, the empty place that said _Vanyel_—

He flung himself on Melody's back and spurred her cruelly as soon as he was in the saddle; she squealed in surprise and launched herself out of the stable door, as the Healers and sentries shouted after him, too late to stop him.

Days later, he came upon the battlefield, riding an exhausted horse, himself too spent to speak. The battle was long over; and still the carnage was incredible. _/end quote/_

_No, no, no—_

He searched the ruins fruitlessly, for some sign of him, of Vanyel, but found only the mage-stone he had given him, cracked and blackened by mage-fire, still on its chain, which was coiled on the ground in the shape of a snake.

And Stefen ran, ran into the forest with tears running down his cheeks, as if by fleeing the battlefield he could escape the truth. Finally, he collapsed, sobbing, near the base of a huge tree. Then he remembered—he had grabbed the bottle of argonel the Healer had given him to help him sleep in his mad rush to leave the barracks. Yanking the stopper out of the bottle, he drank it down, pausing only to notice that it was only two-thirds full. But it was enough; it had to be enough—

As he drifted off, he muttered—"Van—Van, I'm coming—"

And suddenly he was standing in a broad, grassy field, the sun shining down on his face. He only had time to notice this before he saw him

"_Van!" _he screamed, as loud as he could, and they were together again.

When they pulled apart, he noticed for the first time the figures standing in the grass. One was a woman, golden-skinned and black-haired, with eyes as black as midnight and full of stars. The other was male, though his features could hardly be distinguished, for he radiated a bright glow that eclipsed his face.

_Bard Stefen_, Kal'enel said. Stefen bowed as low as he could.

_Rise. Now—I understand you wish to be with Vanyel. However, it is not your time. The argonel you drank was enough to put you into a deep sleep, enough to bring you here, but you must return to your body quickly, or you will be truly dead. You may have a few more moments, but I am afraid you must return soon. _

"But—I—"

"Stef," Vanyel said softly. "You must go back. You love me enough to die for me, but do you love me enough to live for me as well?" Stefen shook his head. That was a question he could not answer. They stood there for a few more moments, just looking at each other—

_Stefen, you must go._

"Not without Van." Vanyel and the Goddess exchanged a glance that Stefen couldn't read.

_Play a song for us, then. We hear few of them here._

And Stefen played. He played a song that he hadn't ever practiced, a song he hadn't ever heard—but he played his very soul, encompassing all his grief and his need to have Vanyel back with him, and his love—

Stefen finished with a soft trill of notes, ending a song that seemed to have lasted forever. Vanyel was looking at him with an odd look on his face—no, not at him, _past _him, and Stef noticed for the first time the young woman, clad in Bardic Scarlets, standing behind Kal'enel and Vkandis. She was crying softly.

_Vanyel may return with you,_ Kal'enel said, and Stefen could have cried with joy. _But on one condition. He will follow you from here, but you must not look at him until you have reached your world again. Do you understand?_

"Of course," Stefen said, and he _was _crying now.

A vast tunnel opened up in the earth, and Stefen started down it, trusting that Vanyel was following him. After what seemed like forever, he emerged into the sunlight and looked behind him. Van was there—still standing in the shadow of the tunnel entrance. As Stefen watched, the tunnel and Vanyel simply faded away into nothing. He now understood that odd glance—Vanyel had agreed to this only to get Stef to return to life.

Tears running down his cheeks, Stefen picked up the cracked mage-stone and returned.


End file.
